


nothing a cup of tea can't fix

by gigglesandfreckles



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Disaster Lineage, Fluff, Overprotective Anakin Skywalker, Overprotective Obi-wan Kenobi, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26906923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigglesandfreckles/pseuds/gigglesandfreckles
Summary: when Anakin shows up to Obi-Wan's quarters in the middle of the night, the Jedi Master knows something has gone awry. answering Anakin's desperate cry for help, Obi-Wan is reminded of how very, very prone to dramatics his former padawan and grand padawan are.orAhsoka gets sick and Anakin flips his shit.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 20
Kudos: 377





	nothing a cup of tea can't fix

**Author's Note:**

> there is nothing more gratifying than writing Anakin as the ridiculously over-concerned father we all know he would have been, had he been given the chance. but hey GOOD THING HE HAD SOKA to practice anyway. *heart breaks*

He felt it before he heard it.

What pulled Obi-Wan out of bed seconds before the knocking started was the all-to-familiar presence on the other side of his door, prickling through his consciousness and interrupting his sleep. A presence he hadn’t felt in the middle of the night in a very, _very_ long time.

Groggily, hurriedly, he shrugged on a robe, sliding open the door as the first incessant pounding started on the door.

“You’re up,” breathed Anakin, his hair and eyes wild.

“I’m up,” nodded Obi-Wan, his eyebrows lowering in concern. “What’s wrong?”

Anakin took a shaky breath. “It’s Ahsoka,” he said quickly. “She’s...I don’t know. _Not okay_.”

The remaining sleep fell from Obi-Wan’s mind with a thud. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Anakin ran a hand through his hair. From the current state of his curls, it looked like he had been doing that a lot tonight. “She was fine and then she just...I don’t _know_ , Obi-Wan.” His hand twitched, hovering next to his head.

Anakin’s hands always twitched when he was at his worst; the tell-tale sign of an oncoming emotional outburst. Obi-Wan was too familiar with these.

“Let’s go,” he said, practically pushing Anakin out the door.

Anakin jogged down the winding halls of the temple back to his quarters, Obi-Wan in tow. It wasn’t a long distance on a normal day, but it felt like miles for the two Jedi now.

Finally, they arrived back at what used to be Obi-Wan and Anakin’s shared quarters. There was no time to be nostalgic, now, though. Ahsoka was _hurt_ , though Anakin had still failed to conceptualise exactly what was going on.

With a quick wave of his hand, the door slid open and Anakin continued his jog to the room on the left: Ahsoka’s room...Obi-Wan’s old room.

“She can’t get up,” said Anakin helplessly, his voice sounding strained and raw.

Kriff, what had _happened?_

“Anakin, what--”

“Just look,” demanded Anakin, waving another frantic hand in front of her door.

Immediately, Obi-Wan was blasted with heat. 

“What the--”

“M--master Kenobi?” a meek voice called through the darkness, through the _furnace_.

“Ahsoka,” breathed Obi-Wan. “What’s wrong, my dear?” He squinted, trying to make out her location in the small, pitch black room.

“N--no--” she broke off into a coughing fit.

“ _Obi-Wan,_ ” whined Anakin from behind him.

Obi-Wan held up a hand, quieting Anakin. “I’m here, Ahsoka. I need you to tell me what happened so we can help you, okay?” He felt through the Force, trying to ascertain her situation.

This was the _Temple_. It wasn’t as if an intruder could have entered without alerting _someone_. After all, a quarter of the inhabitants of the Temple were nocturnal species! So what had happened?

Anakin and Ahsoka had arrived from a ten rotation campaign earlier that afternoon, but Obi-Wan hadn’t heard any reports of major injuries that could be causing this crisis.

“I’m...okay,” more coughing, “...Master.”

“Well, you certainly don’t _sound_ okay,” Obi-Wan frowned into the darkness, willing his eyes to _adjust,_ damn it. As if the Force was responding to his frustration, Ahsoka’s figure suddenly came into focus.

She looked...fine?

“Can you help her?” Anakin impatiently cried, still hovering in the doorway. He seemed afraid to walk in the room.

“I’m trying to determine what’s _wrong_ with her,” Obi-Wan shot back, over his shoulder, crouching at Ahsoka’s bed. “Little one, can you tell me what’s going on?”

Ahsoka struggled to focus her gaze on Obi-Wan. “Nothing. I’m just...sick.”

The older Jedi frowned. “What kind of sick?”

“I don’t know,” Ahsoka managed a pathetic shrug from her reclined position. “Just sick.”

Obi-Wan studied the Togruta, taking in her slightly-less-vibrant-than-usual pallor, cloudy eyes, and reddened nose. “Does your head hurt?”

“Like I got bull-dozed by a couple droidekas,” confirmed Ahsoka.

“And your throat is sore?”

“Obviously,” she croaked.

“I assume you have the heater on full blast for a reason?”

“It’s _freezing_.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan nodded, turning back to Anakin. “I now see why you were so urgent for my assistance.”

Anakin looked to him expectantly, still clinging to the threshold between the common room and Ahsoka’s bedroom.

“This isn’t something you’re capable of handling on your own,” Obi-Wan turned up the theatrics, relishing in the horror that graced Anakin’s face. The older Jedi even dropped his head to the ground, scrounging up a look of sorrow.

He’d always enjoyed a good performance.

“What _is it,_ Master?” gritted Anakin.

“I think your Padawan,” a deep sigh and one last dramatic look to the young girl in the bed, “has...a common cold.”

“A _what?!_ ” bellowed Anakin.

Obi-Wan lightly chuckled, feeling no real remorse at creating humour at Ahsoka’s expense, considering the Padawan was struggling to breathe through her own raucous laughter.

“Master, I... _told_ you!” she managed, breaking off into a new fit of coughs.

“That…” Anakin took a shuddery breath, his bare chest heaving under his hastily fastened robe, “that _cannot_ be a common cold.”

“Anakin,” said Obi-Wan, “she’s fine.”

“But, but...she keeps _coughing!_ ” He said the word as if it was equivalent to the Blue Shadow Virus...which Ahsoka had ironically already contracted _and survived._

“That’s how colds work, my friend,” Obi-Wan said gently, trying not to belittle Anakin beyond reason. It was obvious his former Padawan was in genuine distress. “Look...she’s obviously got a fever, a sore throat, and congestion. These symptoms are inconvenient and unfortunate, of course, but not life-threatening.” He turned to Ahsoka with a warm smile. “She’ll be okay, given she gets some rest.”

“But,” Anakin still didn’t seem to understand, “what do I _do?_ ”

“Nothing, Skyguy,” murmured Ahsoka. Obi-Wan didn’t need to see her to know she accompanied the statement with an eyeroll. “Just go back to bed. Like I said, an _hour ago_ , I’m fine.”

Anakin almost looked _angered_ by this. “I’m not _going back to bed_ ,” he spat. “Look at you! You look horrible!”

“Thanks.”

“I will admit,” Obi-Wan focused on the bedridden Padawan, “you do seem as if you’re headed for the worst of it. Your cough doesn’t sound good, my dear.”

“My cough is _fine_ ,” she waved him off.

“Ahsoka,” he said, a bit firmer than the voice he usually addressed her with. “It’s important to take care of yourself.”

“You’re just worrying too much,” she muttered, before breaking off into another round of coughs. “I’ll be completely normal by class in the morning.”

“It’s almost morning _now_ ,” Obi-Wan cried in exasperation. “You will certainly _not_ be going to any classes today.”

She scoffed in defiance. “But Master Unduli is--”

“No,” he said sharply. “You need to rest.”

“You’re just as bad as _he_ is,” she gave a sour pout, sticking a finger toward Anakin. “He’s scared to even come near me because he thinks he’ll _break me_.”

“Not true!” cried Anakin, looking to Obi-Wan for support.

The older Jedi closed his eyes, seeking extra patience for dealing with these two _children_.

“If you have yet to recognise how often your Master overreacts,” he raised an eyebrow at Ahsoka, ignoring the arguments from the man behind him, “then I do not know what to tell you.”

She managed a pitiful laugh.

“And if _you,_ ” he turned back to Anakin, “think your Padawan is going to be anything other than stubborn, whether she’s healthy or not, then you have just as much to learn as she does.”

Ahsoka sputtered from her bed, trying and failing to form a defense.

“Now,” Obi-Wan rose from where he had been kneeling on the floor, “I, for one, am going to make some tea and get the invalid some water.”

“I’m not an in--”

“ _I_ _f anyone would like a cup,_ ” Obi-Wan pressed on, “I am more than happy to offer it.”

Anakin and Ahsoka scowled from opposite sides of the room.

“I believe water and a good night’s rest is all your Padawan needs to survive this brush with death,” Obi-Wan added to Anakin, needing to have _one more_ point over his former Padawan. Anakin rolled his eyes, but his shoulders looked a great deal looser than they had before. “Now, come on. We’ll sit in the common room and make sure she doesn’t escape.”

“I’m not going to es--”

“That doesn’t sound like _rest_ ,” Anakin sang, snapping into character as he followed Obi-Wan out the door.

“But I’m--”

“If you keep it up, we’ll make sure your prison sentence is even longer,” chimed Obi-Wan.

“Don’t you two have things to do?” Ahsoka glowered. “Like oh, I don’t know, paperwork, studying, literally _anything_ other than ruining my life?”

“Did that sound like Ahsoka?” Anakin turned to Obi-Wan.

“You know,” Obi-Wan stroked at his beard. “It did. But it couldn’t _possibly_ have been her, because if it was...we’d have to require a full examination from Master Che.”

“Obviously,” said Anakin with a smirk. “A Padawan who can’t listen to the wise counsel of two respected and esteemed Jedi like ourselves definitely needs medical attention.”

“Master Yoda hates me,” groaned Ahsoka, staring at the ceiling. “That’s why he assigned me to you psychos.”

“Good night, my young Padawan,” Anakin said sweetly, sliding the door closed behind him.

“Good night, _my overdramatic Master_ ,” she muttered as soon as the seal clicked.

“ _Being the Chosen One means I can hear through airtight doors!_ ” came the response.

**Author's Note:**

> he can't hear through airtight doors, of course. but Ahsoka doesn't have to know that. :) thank you for reading! wonderful, wonderful humans!
> 
> follow me on tumblr for more star wars musings: giggles-and-freckles


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